


reflecting

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [139]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: Set immediately after 05x10 “Mercy Shall Follow Me” – and in a universe where the events of 02x12 “The Hail Mary” more closely followed the plot of “Dragonfly in Amber”
Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [139]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/345047
Comments: 7
Kudos: 76





	reflecting

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/616566091639062528/i-need-more-of-the-moment-where-jamie-learns-of) on tumblr

There hadn’t been very much conversation these past few days, traveling back home to the Ridge.

Mama and Da knew what she and Roger had been up to, once Bonnet had been staked to drown. Da had given her a look – whether it was pride or sorrow, she couldn’t tell – and had turned away with Mama, to make stops at the glassblower’s and the blacksmith to retrieve the new components for Mama’s syringes.

Mama and Da and Ian hadn’t said anything when she and Roger had returned in mid-afternoon. As unusual as it was for them to travel even a short distance before nightfall, all of them longed desperately to leave Wilmington behind.

So they had, making camp two hours outside of the town that night. Communicating with each other only enough to exchange the basics for food and shelter, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Normally they would all settle close around the campfire, but that first night Ian had announced he would take watch, and as Mama and Da drifted off into the trees, so had she and Roger, in the opposite direction.

They comforted each other that night, as best as they could beneath the stars. The simple joy of holding each other, feeling so much relief…it was indescribable.

It was over.

But there was still so much to be said.

Five days into the journey home, as they made camp after another day’s long ride, she didn’t realize how lost she was in her thoughts until her Da’s gentle hand settled on her shoulder.

Startled, she blinked up at him. He smiled, slinging the rifle over his shoulder.

“Yer Mam has asked me to find our supper. Come wi’ me, _a leannan_?”

He reached out one big, strong, capable hand. She took it, following him away from the campsite – past Roger and Ian pitching their tents, and Mama building a fire.

“We won’t be long,” Da said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

Roger looked up, sharing a quick smile. Handed her the rifle that hadn’t left her side since Wilmington. Then returned to his work.

Da didn’t speak for a long while, padding quietly through the forest. But finally he did, coming to a stop and resting on a large rock.

“Just a few weeks before Culloden, yer Mam was called to tend to a sick man. We had kent him during our time in Paris.” He sighed. “Alexander Randall. Jack Randall’s younger, more fragile younger brother.”

Brianna wanted desperately to lay her hand on his – but something about his demeanor told her not to.

“I went wi’ her, of course, to make sure she was safe. Neither of us expected Jack Randall to pay his brother a visit.”

His hand – lined with the scars that she knew were the legacy of her mother’s first orthopedic surgery, done in haste after Da’s hand had been all but destroyed – clenched into a fist on his knee.

“I was obliged to spend time wi’ him, that day and on subsequent days. I realized that the only love he ever felt in his miserable life was for his brother. He – he became soft around him. More human.”

She swallowed. “And that confused you.”

He nodded. “God help me, I gave him kindness, out of respect for his brother. It killed me that I could feel compassion for him, having lost my brother when I was a lad. Even though I wanted nothing more than to kill him. Avenge myself.”

She settled the butt of the rifle on the ground between her legs. “And you hated yourself more for feeling that kindness.”

“He didna deserve kindness. But seeing him that way – it helped me perhaps understand a wee bit, how he came to be the way he was. It – it didnae change my desire to hurt him. But it did make me think about it.”

“Shades of gray,” she mused.

“Aye.”

She turned to face him. “Killing him felt good, Da.”

He smiled sadly. “I know. It did.”

“It doesn’t change what happened to me. But I feel like I’m in control now.”

He sighed, eyes full of sorrow. “That’s where you’re wrong, _mo chridhe_. You sent him to the hell where he belongs. Ye dinna need to live in fear any longer. But even though he willnae stalk the earth no longer…” Gently, carefully he unclenched his fist and rested it over her heart. “It will be in here for the rest of your days. Ye willnae think of it all the time anymore. Ye will always ken that the story ended in the way ye wanted it to. But trust me when I say, when ye least expect it, it will come back to you again.”

She pursed her lips. “When does it come back for you?”

“In my dreams, usually. When I was in fever wi’ the snakebite – I was in as much pain as I was right after all that happened.” He paused. “And sometimes, I dinna ken what brings it to my mind – only, I could be wi’ the horses, or at the whisky spring, or even in bed wi’ yer Mam. It will come back. And I’ve learned to no’ question the why. Yer Mam has helped me wi’ that. Do ye ken that she has troubles of her own, from her time in the great world war?”

Brianna frowned. “You mean – she has flashbacks?”

“I dinna ken what to call them, but since I married her I remember at least four times when she returned to the war, in her mind, and stopped breathing.”

Brianna brought a hand to her mouth, shocked. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

“I only tell you this, Brianna, so that you understand that you’re no’ alone. Surely ye ken that, living wi’ Roger. But yer Mam taught me, and I reminder her of this too, that the best thing to do is to let it happen. Dinna fight it, it will stay longer wi’ ye. And then when it’s over, find a person you love and just be wi’ them.”

She took his hand between her own. “Did one just happen to you?”

He didn’t lower his gaze from hers, but squeezed her hand. “It doesnae ever go away. But wi’ time, ye can heal of it.”

He pulled her to him, then, and they held each other for a long time.

“I wish this never happened to ye, _a chiusle_. I only ever want ye to be happy and safe.”

She held him tighter. “I am. Right now. Always.”

He kissed the top of her head, and whispered “ _Deo gratias_ ” into her crown.


End file.
